So the pain that I’m feeling
Exists inside a portion of me
In the idea of not knowing
If the game we played was reality
A love chased after blindly, a normal ordeal
I don’t know anything fully
As nothing had been revealed.
What would cause a person to lull
And ignore a story where none
Of the sequences were concluded.
Was the suffering in a life of
Living, such burdened conjecture.
Then the idea of a plan made
For the soul to suffer
Sets me on fire.